Saturday Thoughts

Among the most memorable plays that should have never counted.

Let's just say it: using two pivot feet is a travel. Jeff Green used two pivot feet before hitting his game-winner. Therefore, it should not have counted. QED, motherfuckers.

Also:
- Billy Packer is the Antichrist. Not that this is news. But did you hear him tonight? His approach to the games was characteristically infuriating, with Packer seizing upon any opportunity to criticize, elevating the insignificant, and taking examples out of context to support his preconceived conclusions. I have never, ever known a person to singularly ruin any activity in which he is involved akin to the way that Packer turns every single game he broadcasts into torture for viewers. At this point, I have to imagine that he is sleeping with someone important at CBS or that a CBS executive in charge of game assignments is carrying out a bet pertaining to how long he can alienate his audience without losing his job.

- Though I love college basketball and certainly don't experience such a virulent aversion as some do, I have to point out a grating shortcoming of the game: the three-point line is too close. These NCAA Tournament games are exciting because of the three-pointer-fueled comebacks, but at a certain point, the skill required to wield range as a weapon is diminished if damn near anyone can credibly attempt a three. Put the line farther back and make shooting a true, differentiating ability.

- Pursuant to my post about O.J. Mayo, here's Tim Floyd on PTI yesterday (click to download audio).

I give Floyd credit for being honest and for defending one of his (incoming) players.

I also think that Floyd's candor illustrates the inherent moral ambiguity that arises in situations created by preternatural talents like Mayo: The culture of college football and basketball is inextricably linked to this disingenuous rhetoric about student-athletes that we have constructed to compensate for the exploitative nature of the competitions held among children. We like to pretend that they're in college to maximize an athletic gift but only while primarily participating in the social rituals of late adolescence and riding the socioeconomic escalator that comes with earning a college degree. But really, big-time college sports and the superstars around which they're built are a de facto farm system for the NBA and the NFL. So, if a guy like Mayo is talented enough to play in the NBA, wants to play in the NBA, and will knowingly participate in the folly of amateurism for a year, why do we even go through the motions, protesting that he needs to be in college or that he should be in college?

It's something that I struggle with because there is validity to arguments against college--especially if we're honest and acknowledge that classroom learning after high school may not be what everyone wants or should have to do. And if Mayo has some large-scale marketing plan that will allow him to maximize his value and accomplish his goals, why would we say "no" to that? On the flip side, I also think that the social growth fostered by the typical college experience is valuable for anyone; I think it only enhances a player's basketball skills to receive higher level coaching and game experience; and I'd like to think, no matter how idealistic, that it might encourage an appreciation for academia should a kid turn out to be among the 99% of college athletes who don't earn a career in professional sports. If he's not spending all of his time trying to be like Matt Leinart (and just ask Floyd if the Leinart experience--partying, getting in gossip magazines, engaging in conspicuous promiscuity--is what USC sells to kids), maybe Mayo will decide that he actually enjoys being a student in a more independent setting.

I am also still wary of Mayo, though Floyd's account of the New York Times story's subjects fills in some gaps. I don't want to vilify someone whom I don't know and who's in a situation with which I am unfamiliar, but as a sports fan, especially one who follows college sports and the tawdry world of recruiting and alternative compensation for athletes on campus, how can you not be suspicious of a rising freshman who has already enumerated goals of marketing himself and earning recognition as a program's savior? No matter how Mayo and his advocates frame those goals--maybe it's part of a next-level marketing plan, maybe it's hubris--aren't they similar to so many of the problems teams encounter when players are selfish? Don't they seem to lend themselves to problems that already afflict the USC sports culture, one in which celebrities crawl the sidelines and agents may or may not be making illegal contact with players? Again, the rules and conventions of our college-sports system may be built on a misleading foundation and should perhaps be significantly changed, but until they are, shouldn't we be concerned about abiding by them?

More tangibly, what will happen if Mayo isn't getting the credit that he thinks that he deserves next year? Won't that hamper his marketing vision, the guiding force that compelled him to sign with USC in the first place? What if USC isn't good and his reputation takes a hit? USC is known and sells itself as a school for superstars, but doesn't that just invite controversy while further blurring the demarcation that supposedly separates college and pro sports? The conditions that surround Mayo's impending matriculation seem to argue for complications. Thus, while it may be accurate that Mayo is smartly envisioning a future that either exploits (in a good way) or circumvents our current system, I don't think it's slanderous to wonder if perhaps those goals will lead to short-term conflict even if, ultimately, long-term success.